Sarah was very unhappy. She moved the hood of her cloak down to hide her face from the rising sun and sulked. She hated it here. She hated the unpaved roads, the taverns infested with all kinds of vermin, the villagers who never washed but considered it their right to stick their noses into anything that came within their reach. She also hated the available modes of transportation. Even a century ago, when she was just only remade, she did not have to travel on a goddamned horse. There were always carriages. Now... The carriage would be a lot of trouble, not to mention expense, and she did not think it could go everywhere either. No, the horse was a better choice. Sarah did not really need the horse either, but it gave her a certain status when traveling and cut down on a lot of crap from the friskier village males. It was also good as a source of blood, if she did not feel like hunting, which was more often then not these days. She was getting really discouraged and depressed. And the horse did seem to like her.
The horse stepped in the pothole on the road, and Sarah's thoughts changed to the cursing of Mr. Disney. It was not his fault of course, that she was stuck here in this Godforsaken place hunting a banshee, but she felt like having someone to blame, and the old warlock seemed as likely target as any. When she defied the Elders' Council and it suddenly became fashionable to try for a piece of her hide, traveling to another reality on hire from a 200-year-old warlock seemed to be a very good idea. Now, she wasn't sure about that. The funniest thing was, she missed all the trappings of technology much more than she missed the inconveniences. She might find the unwashed men of the area acceptable prey, but she wasn't ready to take one to bed yet... Although she was starting to fear *that* was going to change soon. Five months is a long time. For some things.
And then there was the need to travel in sunlight. The roads were dangerous here at night, dangerous with the things that she would have sworn have their place only in the realm of the imagination. Of course that was in her world, the familiar, usual world, where banshees were but a fanciful story and demons could not manifest themselves without some serious help. Sarah could probably handle most of the things, but she was not about to push her luck after a couple of close calls. And she was sick and tired of loosing money. This wasn't her first horse.
There was another problem with it as well. The villagers were not much for differences in people. Should her true nature become known, she could look forward to a lot of idiots trying to be heroes with the help of the legends that were strangely similar with those of her reality, although she was quite sure that there were no real vampires here. Go figure. No, it was better for her to be just another traveler on a mission. Much better.
She pulled out a very scratchy map and tried to decipher the unfamiliar script. She was looking for a village with the quaint name of Seven Hollows, which apparently was misplaced at least a mile, according to the map. She had heard that a banshee had made an appearance there a few days past. Maybe she was getting closer.
(7) His awareness of the world outside his little pocket of warmth had been steadily growing for months. As had his awareness of the increasing danger to himself and his mother. Although he was painfully aware of the Unseen One, and the entity that thought of itself only as It, he didn't believe that they were much aware of him as yet. His light was still to small and unsteady to attract their attention. So he'd been content to wait the situation out, until he'd heard the Beansidhe song. It had been all he could do to compell his mother into unconsciousness and quickly follow her, obliterating all signs of life from them both and sparing them the rath of his father. He'd been pleased all out of proportion when his mother had taken to the road to seek his father, and enjoyed the way her steady gait had rocked him to sleep...
He awoke with a jerk that caused his mother to stumble and nearly fall. They were close, and getting closer. Just ahead he felt It, and it caused his blood to run cold. To the east he felt the Unseen One, and presumably the Seer. And to his horror, to the west he felt another presence...something not human or fey...he knew not what, only that it was another danger, and one more than he was ready for. Abruptly his mother stopped, still and silent, and there were the Unseen One and his human companion. And the Unseen One could sense him, he *felt* it. He made himself as still and insubstantial as he could, thinking "go away, go away," and while he was sure his ruse didn't work, the Unseen One obligingly began to herd his companion away. He relaxed, felt his mother relax, and it that moment, It spoke to him.
"Little One, I've been waiting for you!" The voice was the sound of rotting flesh. And the Little One knew that It had only been waiting until the sound wouldn't destroy him utterly to speak. As it was, he felt his life spark flicker under the weight of It's words. "How obliging of your lovely mother to bring you right to me." It's delight was obvious, and terrifying. "Now the three of us shall find your father, and our contract will be fufilled."
The Little One felt the demon his father had summoned and presumed to possess, and knew that he had no way to fight it...
Sioban watched in relief as the fair man stumbled, and then continued on his way. She wanted nothing more than to be on her own way, to find Tabert, and to deliver their child in safety. As soon as the man was out of sight, she stepped back onto the path. Hopefully he'd be too occupied with his imaginary friend to hear the inevitable sounds she made as she manovered herself and her child throught the forrest. Resting her hands on her belly, she took a step...and a slashing pain gripped her, beginning at the base of her spine, and spreading like hands around her swollen abdomen. Involentarily, she cried out, piercing the forrest with her pain and terror, as she drifted in seeming slow motion to the ground...
Jack left the woman behind with a sense of relief and unease. The Voice had been a tad too eager to let him abandon her, after pointing her out in the first place. And every time he got within shouting distance of her, he felt...watched by invisible eyes. Not that *that* was anything new, he admitted wryly to himself. But the true source of the unease was the...Presence...he'd felt hovering nearby. He desperately wished for ale, or whiskey. Anything to fog his view of the Presence, the Watcher, the Voice...
Just as he began to relax, to think that whatever this new "adventure" held, at least the Presence, It, would be far behind him, he heard the woman cry out. With a curse that would have made his mother blush with horror, and his father flush with pride, Jack turned back the way he'd come. Ignoring the prodding of the Voice, he set off at a run to meet whatever catastrophe he was destined for next...
Jack's Unseen Companion felt a sense of relief that *almost* overwhelmed his trepidition as Jack set off to rescue the woman and her...child. When the Little One had made his fear and wish to be left alone clear, the Voice had been willing to oblige him, though he knew the pair, mother and son, were heading down a trecherous path. And while he wanted to help, indeed, looking into the future of the child he felt compelled to help, he knew that the danger to himself and Jack, who he'd developed a surprising fondness for, was formidable. So he'd allowed Jack to carry on, and wished them the best of luck. Now, as Jack raced with amazing grace over root and branch, the Voice realized there had never really been any choice. The woman and her baby were his, and Jack's, destiny.
(8) Jack continued to curse as he ran. There was no point to the profanity, but, somehow, it made him feel better. The trail was more treacherous than he remembered. There hadn't seemed so many twisted roots or upturned stones before.
"Where are you woman?" He stopped at the edge of the road, near where he had first seen the woman, and panted, desperately trying to catch his breath. "What the Devil..." On a hunch, Jack reached out, groping the air. Reality fell away before him, as a silver crevasse of light appeared, arching through the darkness.
"All this for a woman," Jack muttered darkly, stepping through the newly formed doorway. The other side of portal perfectly matched that which had left. However, Jack knew that far more dangerous creatures than wolves and beansidhes hunted this land. All it took was a few well placed steps off the path to locate the woman and the...thing.
It wasn't real in any physical sense, yet it lacked some quality which Jack's invisible companion had. It was a mass of silver light and Jack wasn't entirely sure he was "seeing" it with his eyes at all. The woman lay torpid and sprawled at the base of the creature, one arm drawn protectively across her swollen belly.
Hello, the word swam through Jack's mind. He watched as bits of light fell from their focus and crashed to the ground, emitting an odor much like that of rotted flesh.
"What are you?" Jack whispered, his gaze flickering between the entity and the fallen woman.
Nothing to you, Seer. It seemed to move, a rippling effect, toward the woman.
"Good," said Jack. "Then I'll just be taking the woman and be on my way..."
The light shifted, placing it's self squarely between his prey and her would-be hero.
Deep within his mother's womb the child stirred. He reached into his mother's mind, expending much energy to wake her. Still, he could not feel her blood quicken to answer him. He tried again, kicking as he did so. That worked.
Sioban moaned and opened her eyes. Her jaw dropped, her lips forming a perfect "O" of surprise. Before her the air shimmered. She couldn't see anyone, yet she knew there was something there, for the dark trees seemed to ripple, affected by something more than just the night.
Beyond the shimmering stood a man with pale hair, which reminded her of the Easterners who had visited Seven Hollows when she was a child. With a jolt she realized that he was same man who had passed her on the road only moments before. He still seemed crazy, talking to the air, though her ears were ringing and she could not decipher his words.
A small voice in the back of her mind whispered, "Get up. Get going. You are in danger!" Gasping in agony, she pulled herself to a sitting position. Pain knifed through muscles and she grasped her stomach.
"It will be all right, little one. It will be all right..." Her lips moved, but Sioban couldn't even hear her own words.
Jack watched as the woman stirred, sitting, then holding her belly while repeating what seemed to be a mantra. It knew, too, but it seemed less concerned than Jack would have thought it to be.
Jack was at a loss. The shimmering thing seemed to become more agitated by the moment and he wasn't entirely sure how to fight it. Just then Jack felt a familiar presence.
"It's about time!" the burly man screamed into the darkness.
"Ah, Jack me boy, don't ye have even a little faith?" the Voice asked.
Jack snarled back, "Not much. Where have you been?"
"Coming to a decision," the Voice replied.
"About what?" Jack retorted.
The Voice was silent for a moment then, "Fate o' destiny. Whatever ye like to call it."
You the creature uttered.
"Get th' girl, Jack." the other supernatural entity said.
Jack bit back a sharp retort and made his way carefully around It, which did not move.
"Get up, woman," he said, grabbing the dark-haired girl's shoulders.
She looked up at him, glassy eyed, her lips moving without making any sound.
"I said 'up'!" Jack hauled her to her feet, where she promptly cried out and fell against him. He muttered a curse as he dug his heels into the ground, trying desperately to keep from toppling over. It had still not moved, but rippled at an alarming rate.
"Jack!" The Voice said. "Get the girl out o' here!"
Jack lugged the pregnant girl around the edge of the clearing and on to the dark road. She seemed confused and in pain.
"How that thing ever got you off the road and into the underbrush is beyond me," he hissed, readjusting his grip, trying to more evenly distribute the weight.
The doorway was still there, glowing brightly. Jack stepped through the arch, dragging the moaning woman behind him, returning once more to reality as he knew it.
(9) The Fey rides behind me on his hound, but I do not have time to wait for him. If I am fast enough I can catch the creature before it escapes beyond my reach again. I leave the animal and it's rider far behind. The creature has hidden itself again. I fear that I will not be in time to catch it before it flees.
I am shocked to recognize one of the figures before me. The girl from the village last night stumbles onto the road pushed by a tall blonde man. I curse as the doorway closes behind him. I can't reach beyond that strange veil myself, if I had been just a moment sooner I could have used the door reach the demon. Demons steal the bodies of the living, and wear them as I do those corpses I borrow from the grave. They are creatures eerily similar to myself in so many ways. That is only a partial explaination for why I fear and hate them so.
There is nothing I can do now, but it burns to think that I must simply leave, knowing what there is that which needs doing. I see recognition in the eyes of the ghost following the man. The Dead can seldom do more than watch the living. Unless they are lucky enough to find a man or woman of special vision they are all but useless to the world. I am not so constrained. The Undead have different rules, and I am very grateful for this right now. I do not know that I could win against this spirit if I needed to fight him for his Seer.
There are duties which I must fulfill. To abandon them for a Demon hunt may not be worth the price, but I cannot deny my first impulse. The nearest graves lay in the village of Seven Hollows. After last night I know there are abundant corpses to chose from. I will return here and question these people to see how they reached the Demon's realm, and how I may hunt it down myself.
(4) It was *not* pleased. It had been moments away from Joining with Little One, just moments away from once again walking the corporeal world, when *he* had showed up. The Seer, rot his soul, had brought the Unseen One right to It. Again. The Unseen's interference was wearing quite thin.
'You are still attached to this -interesting- plane, are you, Unseen?' It taunted.
"Yer as stupid as ever ye were, demon-kin," the Unseen replied. "'Tis rather obvious, seein' as I'm here."
'You are not as...tangible...as when last you interfered with It.'
"I'm a sight more *here* than ye are!" the Unseen sneered. "Ye cannae even manifest yerself wi'out creatin' a pocket o' yer realm. An' even then ye are nae much more tha' an ugly lightshow!"
'And you,' It returned, 'are heard only by the Seer, helpless to do anything but whisper your useless if rather meddlesome advice.'
"I knew there was a reason I hated you," the Unseen muttered.
Sarah was *not* a happy camper. She regarded her poor broken nail with great annoyance. She had been in this hellhole of a plane for waaaaay too long, and she -still- hadn't been able to find the beansidhe. Oh, she knew it was near, but it kept -escaping.- The Fae have different rules, a fact that was a real pain.
What the freak did a warlock need with a *beansidhe*, anyway? Some weird Faery that looked like a drowned chick when it wasn't playing dress-up with a corpse -who wanted that?...the blasted warlock, of course, the one she needed to buy....er, befriend...to get her out of that sticky situation with the Council back home.
"Home..," Sarah sighed, "never thought I'd miss that dump, but it's a helluvalot better than this hole."
Jeez, you kill a few Council members and everyone gets all huffy. It wasn't like they were even good-looking or anything. Sarah sighed again, and glared at the covered window, anxious for sundown.
"I will nae let ye harm the child, ye stinkin' demon-kin," the Unseen announced suddenly.
Trying to buy time, are you? How...-cute-, It thought. 'And you are going to insure this?'
"O' course. T'aint much trouble, seein' as ye're not exactly here, eh?" It could feel the Unseen grin.
'But you are wrong. You are in part of the Unworld, where all Unnaturals are quite natural. Both you and It are quite real here.'
The Unseen made a bored noise. Very well, It thought, there are other ways. It would seek out the Dealmaker, Tabert, and insure It gets what he promised It. But first...cruel amusement stole over him as he forcibly threw the Unseen out of the pocket of Unworld.
It heard the Unseen curse It as It left. It laughed, enjoying the sight of the trees and birds falling dead at the sound.
I'm gonna find the blasted beansidhe tonight, Sarah thought as sundown neared. And if I don't, I am -so- going to suck a few yolkels dry. Actually, I think I'll do that, regardless.
"What the--" Sarah's curse died on her lips as reality seemed to break apart around her. It looked to her like there was a gaping wound in realness, and..something...was leaking out.
'Vampire,' the voice had the sound of decay, of dying to it.
"That's me," Sarah said with false bravado.
'You seek something...a beansidhe.'
"So?" Sarah hoped the whatever-it-was in the cut in realness didn't see her begin to shake.
'It seeks a woman with an unborn child. It can help you, if you will help It.'
"It?" she echoed, confused.
'It that speaks to you!' the voice sounded like it was getting ticked.
"Oh...-you-. Um, yeah, I need a beansidhe...you're looking for some chick who's knocked up?"
'Yes, as you so eloquently put it, It is searching for Sioban and the Little One she carries.'
"And...."
'And, you bring the woman to It, and It will bring a beansidhe to you.'
Now *this* sounded good! How hard could it be to find some pregnant chick? "Okay, mister Whatever-The-Hell You Are, you have a deal."
'The woman is not far from here; she and the One she carries are in the woods east of here. You have but to take her and bring her here. It will return next sunrise with your beansidhe. It expects that you will have It's prize as well.'
"No problem."
Without another word, the wound in realness closed up and the Whatever-The- Hell It Was vanished.
(1) The portal had closed too quickly for me to be of any assistance to the others, yet the frustration of my limitations when not of the flesh really does tend to grate on my nerves.
Even then I may have stayed, investigated the situation more thoroughly (it is not every day one sees the doorway to another dimension), but the desire to escape haunted my nerves like some foolish child...so I fled. Cowardly, mayhaps, but true nonetheless. Still the smell of putrid flesh clung to my nostrils, or my memory of them at the very least. It was all terribly wrong, and I felt ill.
"Don't you think it's time to find another body? I do so hate that damndable shroud." I raised my head to the gray sky above and fought a sigh. Tabert. I hadn't escaped him after all. "How about another woman this time...a young one with many pretty curves?"
He had been following me for days after our first encounter at the village, but I'd managed to ditch him early one evening when a fancy young miss had caught his eye and he had disappeared with her into the darker reaches of the city. I'd taken flight when I was sure he would be otherwise occupied, but it obviously hadn't done me any good. He was persistant if not down right aggravating.
"No sweet hellos? I thought you might be pleased to see me." He was looking at me in that sultry, seductive, altogether manipulative way faeries looked at humans. I was somewhat offended, I have to admit. I hadn't been human for centuries. He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively then laughed in that rich, mocking way of his. Sitting on a rotting log he stared at me, waiting for an answer I presumed.
"Go terrorize some human. I'm busy." He didn't look impressed. Another minor insult. My kind have been frightening mortals and lesser supernatural creatures for years, even a few breeds of the Fey. I couldn't figure this being out. His people were so fickle. One moment he was all sexual posturing and grandeur, the next contemplative. I had the overwhelmingly mortal urge to smack him aside his thick head.
"You tried to get rid of me." His tone was neutral, but I could sense the underlying fury.
"You're right. I never asked you to come along to begin with. You followed me, as I recall it."
"And yet you came back to me." I stared hard at him. I was beginning to lose my patience and the way this creature seemed to think that everything revolved around him. He stared back. Finally, I broke the silence.
"It had nothing to do with you." He nodded, and I realized he already knew that. He was just trying to get me to talk.
"I've never seen a banshee run before." He said it softly, but his eyes were keen. Too keen, and he looked powerful there in his natural element amidst green trees and dark woods. Somewhere in the distance I could hear the sound of running water and it distracted me from my anger. I had drowned in a river, a very long time ago.
"Is the banshee going to tell me what she was running from, or do I have to convince her, I wonder?" Those eyes were studying me now and growing darker with a more intimate interest. It was somewhat unnerving, even for one of my kind. I had been a mortal woman once, afterall. But never a foolish one.
"I wonder if His Arrogance would be saying such a thing and with such a lack of respect were I standing here, not as some wounded spirit, but in a decaying, stenching corpse?"
He nodded his head to me with a slow grin. "I admit, I am rather predictable, aren't I?" It was my turn to nod. "And yet I cannot seem to help myself."
"You did well enough back in the city where I last saw you."
"And you abandoned me."
"I do not travel for sport, as well your breed should know. I travel through necessity and by curse. Twas my lot in life, I assume, though what I ever did to deserve it other than being a clumsy little twit who fell into a river in the middle of winter while doing her laundry is my own burden."
"Are you going to tell me what frightened you so?"
"Go rot!" Let it be said that the Banshee are unpredictable, as well. And somewhat tempermental. I moved before he had a chance to guard himself, and as my spirit-form shot past him, heading for darker wood, Tabert found himself on the mossy forest floor with his legs sticking up in the air.
Yet he was faster than he looked. No sooner had I flitted past than I felt the first snaking tendril of faerie magic touch my leg. Soon I was wrapped in the writhing stuff and it twined about my ankles and set me upon my arse beside him on the ground. Before I could retaliate, I found myself on my back in the damp earth, staring up at a somewhat perturbed looking faerie who was leaning over me, a smug expression on his handsome face.
"Touch me and I'll rip your tongue out." I warned. His answering smile was dangerous.
"Let...me...up." I put all of the vehemence and intimidation of four centuries in those words, but he merely cocked his head and regarded me with one up-raised eyebrow. Then he stood and actually turned his back...to me.
I was not amused.
Neither was he, so it seemed. "Something must have upset you, Infernal One, the way you rushed through the trees as though a horned god were gorging your feet...you ran as though a Banshee were chasing you."
I didn't answer and this seemed to irritate him further. I could feel the tendrils of magic that gripped me tighten with his mood, pressing me deep into the mossy ground. In a show of composure, he lounged back against the log and looked down at me with a shadowed expression.
"The smell of dead meat whisped behind you like a wraith. What did you see?"
"That poor girl you seduced in the village where we first met." I struggled against the invisible bonds. "Bloody lecher, let me up!" He didn't, of course, and a moment of horror struck me as I felt the earth begin to take me in.
Something akin to a hiss issued forth from my throat. I was furious...and terrified. Well enough I remembered the feeling of being submerged in the cold water of that long-ago river, the pain in my numbing cheek as it scraped along the rocks of the river's bottom. My head was nearly below the wood-grass, the taste of bitter soil in my mouth, when my stubborness finally broke.
"Fine! You miserable cur...you sweating boar...you odious little pile of elf dung!" My tirade went on for a few minutes, even after I found myself once again sprawled safely upon the damp forest floor. Tabert sat patiently until I finished, which merely made me angrier, but as I had no desire to meet with the same experience again, I told him what he wanted to know. I suppose he had a right to it, in any case.
"The girl from the village is with child. Your child." I paused to let this sink in. If I wasn't mistaken, and I rarely was, a slight flush was creeping up this faerie's neck and disappearing into the auburn locks atop his heavy skull. He glowered at me for this knowledge.
"I could sense the life inside her, and it's parentage wasn't too difficult to figure out. Especially after that dreadful scene in the village. There were others with her, I went to them out of curiousity. Until the first scent of that thing reached me. If I am not mistaken, IT was after the child, though for what reason I cannot guess."
"A demon?"
"Do you know of anything else that smells so foul?"
We stared at one another and we rose at the same time, standing eye to eye, though that was difficult, as my spirit-form kept flickering in and out after my recent strain. I would need to find a body soon before I grew too weak to travel and would be forced into slumber for a moon-cycle. Usually I welcomed my oblivion, but I found myself disappointed at the thought of leaving this world any time soon.
"We have to help her...the two of them...all of them." He said it so softly that I barely heard him. Yet I knew I was not mistaken. He truly was a strange creature.
"My dearest Tabert," I whispered, "I do believe that is the first time I have ever heard you offer your aid to anyone but yourself."
(6) I was merely amused when I caught up with the banshee, and expected to spend some interesting time sparring with it (the creature was really quite witty), when I saw its form run for the woods. I have never seen a banshee run before. Of course I have never had a close acquaintance with a banshee before. I came up closer· and then a horrible stench hit me. It was not the banshee's body. No real meat ever smelled this foul. I felt quite instinctive fear crawl up my spine and wrap its cold fingers around my heart. The banshee, being a fickle creature that it was, tried to ditch me again, but I, quite by accident found out a way to persuade it to share its thoughts. Apparently the spirit agreed with my assessment of the presence. The thought of demon being able to easily access our reality filled me with dread. The thought that that THING was after my child filled me with rage. The child was only half-fey, of course, and of limited consequence, but it was MINE! I was not going to abandon it for the demon.
To my surprise, the banshee agreed to keep me company, while we found out if we could do something about the demon. It also told me that there may be someone else who will be able to assist us, one of the flesh and one of the spirit. The way I could figure out, it was a team of a ghost and a latent wizard. I was rather skeptical as far as any help from that corner was concerned, but against a demon· anything will be a plus.
We waited for the darkness to fall, then started for the village. I scourged for some clothes more presentable then a shroud (so... I did not ask if I could take them, the house looked very well off), while the banshee went out to get a new body. I was surprised to find out that she actually listened to me. The new body was young, female and curvy. She wrapped herself in the new clothes clumsily, as if she was out of practice.
"Now, " I said, "I can't keep calling you 'banshee', once we are in the village. Would you like to pick yourself a name, or should I?"
(3) Jack continued to stumble down the path with the moaning woman, trying to put as much distance between them and that...thing...as he could. Somewhere along here he'd dropped his pack. They could stop there for a breather. It was dawning on him that he couldn't hear nor sense his constant companion. Where'd that Boggle go to now? He grew more uneasy as they struggled down the road and it still didn't sound in his head and ears with unasked for advice. Damn! He actually missed it!
"Stop moaning, woman and move! I don't know if that thing can follow us, and I don't want to stay and find out!" He shifted his grip on her and she made more of an effort to support her own weight.
Eventually they made it to his pack. His luck was actually holding. No brownies had found it, nor any natural scavenger. Jack let the woman down as gently as he could and sank down beside her. His lungs were working like a smithy's bellows. He could walk for days with little rest, but running through the woods and brush and then lugging a pregnant woman afterwards had left him more tired than he could remember being in a long while. If his luck held, they could rest a few more moments and then start off again at a more sane pace. He dug through his pack, looking for a small bottle that held his traveling whisky. Just as his hand closed on it, his head was flooded with a vision of slavering jaws, dark fur, and red eyes.
"What-?"
Then a familiar voice resounded in his mind. "We're not out of the woods yet, boy! Get up and get moving!" He was jerked up off the ground. The woman stared up at him, mouth open in surprise. He grabbed his pack and shouldered it. Then he grabbed the woman's arm and tried to pull her up.
"Get on your feet, woman! Hurry!"
"What is it? What-is it coming after us?" She looked fearfully down the path they'd traveled.
"No, no, I don't think so. Our danger is more mundane...Gabriel Hounds..." The bloody dogs would hunt them down if they caught their scent. They would need shelter. Somewhere they could shut the things out. But the Hunt...that wouldn't shut out the Hunters...
"Not the Hunt, Jack! Just a few...camp followers if you will...hounds that course the land, not the sky."
"Oh, bloody good! Find us some shelter, you damn Boggle!"
"I'm not a Boggle!" sounded faintly in his ears and head as the Voice did as it was bid and took off looking for someplace to hole up...at least, Jack assumed it left. He started down the path, headed in the direction he'd been traveling in earlier. He stopped when he realized the woman was still standing back at their resting spot. Turning with annoyance, he saw her staring at him as if he'd sprouted another head. Maybe he had. With the way the day had progressed, he wouldn't be surprised.
"Don't just stand there, woman. Move! I'll not have risked my life to help you just to watch all my effort torn apart by Ratchets!"
"R-ratchets?" she faintly echoed.
"Ratchets, Gabriel Hounds...the Wild Hunt's dogs, woman! Didn't they teach you anything in your village? If they catch our scent, they'll follow us until we drop or they outrun us. I've no fancy to be their next meal. We have to get going. Find shelter somewhere where we can shut them out for the night. They'll tire and leave by the next morning...if we're lucky."
She looked over her shoulder as she hurried toward him. Then stopped and grasped her belly as if in pain. A horrid thought came to Jack...her belly was big...maybe big enough that her time was coming soon. Like now. He returned to her side. Taking her arm, he tried to urge her along.
"Come on. Come on. It's not that, is it, not your time. Tell me it isn't!" She straightened slowly.
"I don't think so...it's a bit early..."
Jack got her to walking. "Then maybe it's all this activity. Running about in the woods...what were you thinking to be running about alone like this." He was babbling at her...trying to take her mind off of her pain. Like that would stop the baby from coming into the world if it was a mind to. He silently admonished it to stay put. It was much safer there than here.
Not that things couldn't be worse. They could. As if in answer to his thought, he heard a distant baying. Stifling a groan, he tried to quicken their pace. By Tam Lin's Ghost, let it be someone else's' scent they'd caught.
As time passed, the baying returned, a bit louder this time. Damn! Luck had deserted him and then some. Just as he started to search the woods along the sides for some rowan trees...hoping a branch of that might work against the hounds like it did most fey, he felt a familiar presence. "About time," he muttered.
"What?" panted the woman. She'd struggled by his side all this time, trying to keep up.
"I wasn't talking to you, I was talking to him!" She stared at him, fear in her eyes. No doubt she thought him truly mad. Everyone else did.
"Shut yer mouth, Jack! Yer frightenin' the poor lass! I've found a small hut off the beaten path. More shack than anything. But the door looks solid enough and there's no holes in the roof big enough to let a hound in. Looks like a woodcutter's home...though...I don't know where the woodcutter is..."
"Probably filling the belly of one of the hounds!" snapped Jack, though he was thankful that something had been found. "How far?"
"Oh, just a ways down the road and off it..." which could mean just down the road or miles from here. Sighing, he grasped the woman's elbow and urged her to a faster pace. "There's a woodcutter's home up ahead a ways. We can shelter there."
She looked like she was going to shrug him off and head the other way, but the sound of baying came again, definitely nearer and that decided her. She nearly outpaced him as she took off down the path.